A Second Chance
by beautyandthewolf
Summary: The Second Wizarding War is over. Hermione is back at Hogwarts to finish her education but she feels as though there's something missing. Remus was killed at the Battle of Hogwarts, but through a twist of fate he has a second chance on earth. How can two lost souls help each other move on from the past? A Remione slow-burner. HG/RL [Sorry I'm rubbish at summaries.]


Author's note: This is my second fanfiction and is quite out of my comfort zone. 'Something There' was easier to write as the song already provided a rough plot but now I'm left to my own devices which is both more exciting and terrifying! I warn you now, it will probably be a slow burner but hopefully worth it in the long run. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

…oooOXOooo…

"Stupefy!"

"Crucio!"

"Confringo!"

"Incarcerous!"

Spells and screams split the air like bullets all around Remus Lupin, but he didn't hear them. His wand slashed back and forth through the air trying desperately to find a way through Dolohov's defences. The Death Eater was holding nothing back, the purple sparks of his homemade curse illuminating the wild desperation in his eyes as he realised his opponent's abilities. The duel was intense and ferocious, they both knew it was a fight to the death. While the battle raged around them, they were alone – isolated in time and space.

Beads of sweat rolled down Remus' forehead and he ignored the screaming of his bones as he whipped his wand arm through the air, using curse after curse after curse. His nostrils flared in anger and terror, and he breathed in the smell of singed flesh and burning buildings with short, sharp gasps. Haphazard thoughts weaved through his mind, driving him on through the exhaustion and pain. He had to win, he had to get back to Dora and Teddy, he couldn't abandon them again, they needed him and he needed them, he needed to win.

A scream ripped through Remus' focus; it was dreadfully familiar and yet it couldn't possibly be. From the corner of his eye he saw the blaze of deathly green connect with splash of bubble-gum pink. The pink faded to pale pink, to dirty blonde, to mousy brown. It was as if time slowed down and he were looking at himself and Dolohov from above. His mind disconnected itself from all feelings; he vacantly understood that he now needed to fight harder than ever, for Teddy. But how could he possibly continue to live in a world without her? From far away he saw himself turn towards his falling wife as Dolohov's face broke into a grin of triumph. The purple sparks hit him just as his arms caught her, their eyes locking together in shock, in fear, in anger, in despair, and in love.

Then there was only darkness.

...ooo…

He cracked open his eyes a fraction. The light was so bright it was blinding. Where was he? How did he get here? The cogs of his mind struggled to fit together as he grasped for the memories of the past few hours.

Then the memories flooded back and he cried out, struggling to breathe as the waves of intense feeling rushed over him. He kept his eyes tightly closed as he curled himself into a ball and rocked slowly back and forth, his breaths coming in gulps as he tasted the saltiness of his tears.

Gradually, his breathing slowed and he opened his eyes again. He was in Great Hall in Hogwarts and yet everything looked different. There were no signs of battle or the war, the windows were unbroken, the tables and chairs in orderly rows, and the stone walls free from the dark scorches of wayward curses. Something else was wrong; he was completely alone, and in complete silence. The enchanted ceiling, which had been dark and stormy when he left it, was the source of the light. It was brighter than he'd ever seen it, almost pure white light shone down on him. Even the walls and furniture in the grand space seemed to be emitting a pale light. Could this be … heaven? But in that case, where was Dora?

"Ah, Remus, this is a pleasant surprise!"

Remus swung around, his face still wet with tears. It was impossible, yet there in front of him, looking the same as always, was Albus Dumbledore. The ancient wizard was garbed in flowing robes of pale yellow and cream, his eyes still held their twinkle, and his once blackened hand was whole again as it stroked his long white beard. Remus' mouth opened and closed in surprise as he tried to weave together his thoughts into a coherent question.

"I must be … dead? But… where am I? Where's Dora? I saw her, she-… she was meant to stay at home. I should have been there. I– I should have saved her. Oh, Teddy…"

"There'll be time for that later," Dumbledore rested his hand on Remus' shoulder, "you and I have a lot to talk about first, and I believe I will be needed at Kings Cross Station before the night is over."

Remus frowned, more questions mixing with the grief and confusion in his weary brain.

"But if I'm dead, how am I in Hogwarts? Where's Dora? Is the war over? Why–"

His mouth continued to move for several seconds before he realised no noise was coming out. Dumbledore raised his eyebrows and motioned to the row of benches next to them and he slumped down, his head in his hands.

"I truly am sorry about Nymphadora," Dumbledore began and Remus pressed his fingers to his temples, trying to push down the new wave of grief that threatened to pull him under, "too many great witches and wizards have paid the price for Tom's malice. We can only hope that their loss will help make a better world for their children."

Bitter thoughts surged into his mind; how could their sacrifice possibly make the world better for Teddy – he'd lost his mother and his father and for what?

"Please tell me we've won the war, at the very least?" Remus distractedly realised that his voice had returned.

"I'm afraid that's not something I can reveal to you, yet," Dumbledore held up his hand to stop the wave of indignation and anger emanating from the werewolf.

"We have other matters to discuss. Come."

Remus stood slowly, stretching his aching bones, and followed his former professor through the line of benches towards the head table. There, curled underneath the folds of the table cloth was a large brown dog. No, he thought as the canine form moved in its sleep, it was a wolf. The animal opened its amber eyes and stared at the two men in in front of it before carefully rising and padding down to the other end of the hall to continue sleeping.

There was something strange about the eyes of the wolf, it looked both achingly familiar and inexplicably different. Remus' memories turned back to his transformations without wolfsbane.

 _The Shrieking Shack was never a pleasant place to spend the night but Remus hated it more than most. The splintered floor and tattered curtains attested to the previous nights spent in the prison and he longed for something, anything, to distract himself from the dread of what was to come._

 _When he'd come to Hogwarts, he had been grateful for Professor Dumbledore's promise of somewhere safe to transform; if there was something he dreaded more than the crushing loneliness and agony of the full moons, it was being expelled from Hogwarts. He simply couldn't risk transforming anywhere else, he'd made such amazing friends for the first time in his life and the loneliness of leaving them would be so much worse than this. But after five months of moons spent tearing at himself in frustration, he couldn't help longing for his wolf to be able to run through the forest._

 _The prickling down his spine and itching of his skin told him the moon had nearly risen and he carefully stripped down and secured his school robes in a metal box in the corner of the room, along with his wand. Rising stiffly, he breathed long and slow, staring at himself in what remained of the full-length mirror on the decrepit wardrobe. He continued watching his eyes in the reflection as the pain ripped through his muscles and joints. Before the disintegrating of his bones caused him to fold over in agony, he saw his eyes shift from green to amber._

The shade of amber he saw in this wolf's eyes was eerily similar to the many times he'd caught glimpses of his own wolf. In fact, now he looked, there was more similarities between the two than he'd initially noticed. Although his eyes didn't change when he took wolfsbane, he had committed to memory everything else about the animal he transformed into. The tawny fur changed from brown to black in the same place on the rear left leg, the patch of white hair was in the same place on his front right paw, tail was crooked in just the same place as his own.

As Remus' mind continued to process just what he was seeing Dumbledore began to talk again.

"Later tonight, I will be visiting Harry in a similar situation. You see, for all those months travelling the country, Harry was hunting horcruxes without realising that he himself also contained part of Tom Riddle's damaged soul."

"When Tom inevitably tries to murder Harry tonight, we might suppose that it is this fragment of his own soul he is destroying."

The old wizard smiled sympathetically at Remus who felt for the hundredth time that his mind was still trying to catch up with reality – if this was reality.

"But, how does that relate to me? To this? To here? I haven't made any horcruxes, I've barely even read about them."

Dumbledore smiled again and Remus resisted the urge to yell at the old man. Why could he never just say what he meant without talking in riddles?

"Have you read the work of Ethelred the Elder?" when Remus shook his head, Dumbledore continued, "Ethelred proposed a theory of lycanthropy in the sixth century. He believed that the man and the wolf were two separate beings, their souls fused together by dark magic similar to that involved in creating a horcrux."

"So then that wolf, that's my wolf? We've come apart, but how?"

"Put simply, you've died. The magic of life, love, and death is more powerful than any spell created by man. The force that moulded you together has broken apart and you both have the freedom for which you've longed. Now, however you have a decision to make."

Remus raised his hand towards Dumbledore, wordlessly asking him to stop. He needed a few moments of silence just to process everything he'd learnt. He had always felt that he and 'Moony' were two different beings, with different minds as well as bodies. But now he could see the visual evidence for what he'd always classed as his imagination, he felt not relief or hatred, but guilt. He'd spent so long detesting that side of himself; his self-loathing had made him hurt those closest to him, and run away from his wife when she needed him most. But if he'd just taken the time to embrace and cooperate with the creature who shared his soul, how different could things have been?

He hesitantly walked towards the sleeping wolf realising for the first time how dull his senses had become. He'd put down the lack of scent and sound to the other-worldliness of wherever he was, but he should be able to smell the animal by now. In contrast, as he approached the wolf, its nose twitched rapidly and its ears flickered backwards and forwards in unease. There was no doubt about it, this was his wolf. Or was he the wolf's human?

"So, now we've become separated, what happens next? Is there an afterlife I move on to? A heaven or hell? Even purgatory?"

"Those questions will no doubt be answered someday, but afterlife is not something you should be concerned with presently. Your time on earth has not been completed, there are still many who need you and many things you need to do."

"But, how can I go back? I'm dead. I haven't heard of other werewolves returning as humans after they die, why me?"

"Special circumstances," Dumbledore paused and waved his hands at the air in front of them.

The white light emitting from the ceiling and the room blazed even brighter, forcing Remus to close his eyes to avoid being blinded. When the light assaulting his eyelids had dulled slightly, he hesitantly reopened his eyes. The view in front of him was distorted in a way similar to a penseive. The edges of all the objects were blurred slightly, as if focusing on them too long would cause them to disintegrate under scrutiny. He was no longer in the Great Hall, but stood in the Hogwarts greenhouses. A younger Professor Dumbledore was speaking conspiratorially in a hushed whisper to Professor Sprout.

" _The Philosopher's Stone? But that's just a myth, it doesn't truly exist."_

 _Dumbledore reached into his pocket and brought out the glinting rock. It's many facets reflected the light coursing through the greenhouse glass, making it glow a deep reddish purple._

 _Sprout's eyes opened wide and she gasped._

" _But, Albus, what does this mean? It can't be safe for the students to keep such a powerful magical object in the castle."_

" _That's why I need your help, Pomona. I'm asking each of my professors to use their expertise in creating a defence for the stone. Something to keep both it and the students safe. Does that sound feasible?"_

" _Yes, of course. I can think of just the thing. But, if it isn't impertinent to ask, would it be possible to have a couple of vials of the infamous elixir, Albus? Not for personal use you understand. If I were to add a couple of drops to the fertiliser of the star-thistle…" Sprout's eyes glazed over as she considered the herbological potential of such a rare substance._

 _Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he nodded, "I'm sure that can be arranged. I look forward to seeing your plans for the defensive measures."_

The colours of the scene shifted and Remus found himself looking at almost the same scene. Only now, both Dumbledore and Sprout looked imperceptibly older.

" _You remember Remus Lupin, Pomona?"_

" _Yes, lovely boy, shame he never really took to Herbology. He could have followed a career in it if he'd wished. It's been so long since I've heard his name mentioned. Not since…"_

" _Yes, well," Dumbledore interrupted, "As of next week, he will be returning to Hogwarts as Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts. There are, however, a couple of things that need to taken care of first."_

" _Why that's wonderful! I'm sure the kids will love him! Did you need something in particular?"_

" _You remember his lycanthropy? Well, recently a potion has been devised which prevents the mind of the werewolf from transforming in addition to the body. The man or woman, will remain humanly conscious and not pose a threat to anyone. The provision of this potion is the single condition on which Remus has accepted my offer."_

" _And you want me to grow the ingredients? Aconite, or wolfsbane, if I'm correct?"_

" _Quite. Would that be at all possible?"_

" _Of course! I'll head to Diagon Alley for some seeds tomorrow. Maybe I'll use some of the special fertiliser to make sure they're ready in time…"_

The scene ended abruptly and Remus found himself back in the Great Hall with the older Dumbledore. So much had happened over the last few hours (or days?), he could barely think straight as the implications of the scenes he had witnessed became clear.

"You understand?"

"I think so. Sprout used the elixir in fertiliser which was then used to grow the aconite used in my wolfsbane? So, now I'm what? Immortal?"

The former headmaster laughed and shook his head, eyes bright with that infuriating twinkle.

"Not immortal, my boy. But not dead, either. The Philosopher's Stone had never been used on anyone infected with lycanthropy before, especially not by infusing it into the aconite itself. I remained curious as to its effect, and judging by the presence of the wolf over there, and your imminent return to earth, I should say the results are extraordinary."

"What? Imminent return to earth? I can't! How can I live in a world without Dora? Teddy would be better off without me! How can I explain to him how I get this second chance? If anyone deserves a second chance it's Dora, she's got so much left to do, so many more people will miss her, it's not fair–" Remus' voice had been rising steadily in volume and desperation as he beseeched the man in front of him and by the end of his pleas his words faded out, replaced by hopeless sobs.

Dumbledore reached towards him and placed a hand on his shoulder, "Life is seldom fair, rarely understandable, and never predictable. You still underestimate yourself, Remus, be glad that your son has a chance to hear about his mother from someone who loved her so much. The pain won't get easier, but you will learn to live with it. Good luck, and goodbye."

"Wait, NO!" he was too late, the world started to spin and fade to impenetrable darkness, leaving only the image of Dumbledore's sad smile imprinted on his eyelids and the salty tracks of his tears prickling down his cheeks.

…oooOXOooo…

A/N: So? What did you think? Please review!

The next chapter is nearly finished so should be up within the next few days.


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